


Halloween Jokes

by catap



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Halloween, Jokes, and undy is just weird, ciel finally gets a sense of humor, posted to tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:43:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8863198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catap/pseuds/catap
Summary: Ciel surprises Undertaker with a joke on his favorite holiday.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted at undertaaker.tumblr.com.

“Alright, Undertaker,” Ciel said with a sigh. “I’ll give you a laugh.”

He had never been fond of Undertaker. Not only was the man completely incapable of taking anything seriously, every visit seemed to underscore the fact that Ciel was terrible at telling jokes. Thankfully, Sebastian, old as he was, knew enough knee-slappers to keep Undertaker happy, but everything about visiting Undertaker’s was a humiliating experience.

This time, however, was different. This time, he had a plan to beat Undertaker at his own foolish joke-telling game and to prove that he didn’t need Sebastian to tell his jokes for him.. Sebastian stood quietly behind him, a silent observer.

Undertaker set his tea down and leaned forward. CIel wasn’t sure–the hair made it difficult to read the man’s face sometimes–but he was almost certain the man was leering at him.

“Well, well, well,” he said with a chuckle. “Oh, this is a delight. It’s very rare that I get a joke from you. Normally you have the butler do it. Well, let’s hear it then, and I’ll tell you whatever you like.”

Ciel raised a hand and shook his head. “No information is required. Call it a Halloween gift. I know how much you love the holiday.”

“Oh, but I _insist_ ,” replied Undertaker, leaning forward. He chuckled again. “Then your next visit is free. Or,” he said, gesturing behind him at the coffins in various stages of construction, “you can always use it on a down payment…”

“ _No thank you_.” What _was_ this man’s obsession with seeing him in the ground? “ _Anyway_ ,” he said, getting back on track. “The joke.” He cleared his throat. “What is a ghost’s favorite food?”

Undertaker grinned in a way that was almost too big for his face, and Ciel could practically see his eyes lighting up behind his fringe. Clearly he knew the answer.

“Oh, I know this one,” he said excitedly, confirming Ciel’s suspicions. “ _Boo_ berries?”

Ciel smirked. “Not quite. Try again, Undertaker.”

Undertaker leaned back, stroking his chin with his hand. “Hmmmm….” he murmured thoughtfully. “What is a ghost’s favorite food… Oh!” he exclaimed, actually jumping up in excitement. “ _Boo_ logna!”

Ciel chuckled. He had never had this much fun at the funeral home before. Undertaker seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself too. Ciel hoped the punchline would be good enough to beat the creep at his own game.

Undertaker’s expression grew serious. He took his seat again, and resumed his reclining, thoughtful position. He sat quietly for a good five minutes, so unmoving that Ciel almost wondered if he’d joined his “guests” in whatever life came after this one.

“ _I’ve got it_ ,” he said loudly, leaning forward so quickly that Ciel was actively startled. “Very clever, young earl, but I’ve got it.”

“Yes, well, let’s hear it. Third time’s the charm, right?,” Ciel said, and he felt a brief pang of worry that Undertaker actually saw through what he was going to do. He quickly dismissed it.

“It’s a trick riddle. Ghosts don’t have a favorite food because… ghosts don’t eat!” He snickered, clearly pleased with his own cleverness.

Ciel stood up, a wry grin on his face. “Wrong again, Undertaker. What is a ghost’s favorite food? Don’t be stupid,” he said, turning toward the door. “Ghosts _don’t_ have a favorite food because ghosts aren’t real.” With that, he exited the mortuary, Sebastian close on his heels.  
—  
Alone with his guests, Undertaker blinked in confusion. He walked over to the man he’d been preparing–a young schoolteacher, maybe in his thirties–when the young earl walked in.

“Was that even a joke?” he asked. He leaned down, placing his head near the corpse’s mouth, as if trying to hear what the man was saying. “Mhm, that’s true.” He stood up, and looked at the door.

Undertaker gently laid a hand on the corpse’s shoulder, looking down at him fondly. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen him smile, my friend?” He thought of the smirk–no, the _smile_ –on Ciel’s face during the visit. The boy had seemed to _genuinely_ enjoy himself. Undertaker began to chuckle, which quickly turned into outright laughter.

The longer he thought about the visit, the joke, and Ciel’s smile, the harder he laughed. He eventually had to sit down, he was laughing so hard. Every time he got close to regaining his composure, he just thought about the punchline– _ghosts aren’t real_ –and started up again.

Finally, _finally_ , the laughter abated. He gently touched Claudia’s locket before going back to his work. “Ghosts don’t exist,” he said (to himself? to Claudia? to the young man? sometimes even he didn’t know who he was talking to) shaking his head gently in disbelief. “That’s funny.”

He decided Ciel’s next visit was a freebie.


End file.
